Safe and Sound
by mermaidstear
Summary: Rowan Tamsin, tribute from District Four and victor of the 69th Hunger Games, volunteers for fellow victor Annie Cresta at the Quarter Quell reaping. She is thrust back into the world of the Games with her old mentor, Finnick, and agrees to work with him to save Katniss Everdeen, the symbol of the rebellion. Finnick/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! So I basically just had this idea a few days ago and it bugged me until I finally decided to write it. I hope you enjoy it. I own nothing but my character, Rowan. Let me know what you think!**

_I am running through flat plains, eagerly trying to get to the Cornucopia before the tribute from District One beats me to it. I'm hungry and I haven't eaten a solid meal since the beginning of the Games so my running isn't up to par. I'm not completely sure why I think reaching the Cornucopia will even matter. District One is at least three times my size, especially considering the fact that I am slowly dying of hunger._

_ The tributes from One and Two and the boy from Four had been guarding the field and the Cornucopia since the minute we were allowed to jump down off of our platforms. I know that weapons are scattered around the field but my vision is blurry and even though I know I am propelling myself forward with all the strength I have, it seems like I'm stuck. I am shaken from these thoughts when District One hurls a spear at me. Miraculously, I manage to avoid the full brunt of its impact and take it through my left shoulder. _

_ I know that I must be screaming and I fall to the ground before I'm even close to the mouth of the Cornucopia. This wound is the last of many that have been inflicted on me since the Games began. I tried to avoid the bloodbath at the beginning as my mentors, Mags and Finnick, had told me to but a tribute from District Eleven saw me heading toward the lake that had been my cover ever since. He had taken only a sword and he had gotten a few good swipes at me before I finally wrangled it from him. When I was able to dive into the lake, he pursued me only to discover that he wasn't a very good swimmer. I didn't officially drown him but I knew that the kill would be considered mine and it could only help me with sponsors. _

_ Truly, I had gotten by on luck alone so far. I'd been hiding in tall reeds by the lake when I saw the girl tribute from Three eat a fish and die from it. That had been the beginning of my struggle for food in the arena. Being from Four, I was accustomed to seafood and I was unfortunately lacking in knowledge of edible plants. After seeing the girl from Three die from the poisonous fish, I wasn't willing to risk it. I cursed myself for not paying attention to the smaller training stations, like the one dedicated to recognizing poisonous foliage. _

_ Other than my battle with the boy from Eleven on the first day and my impending doom from the fight I am about to have with the boy from One, I have escaped my interactions with other tributes nearly unscathed. As far as I can remember, as I am delirious with hunger and thirst, I have not killed another tribute. _

_ As I grab hold of the front of the spear to pull it through, I wonder what Finnick and Mags are thinking; Finnick, in particular. I can barely feel the pain but I know that I am yelling and that One will be closing in on me, ready to finish me off. I get the spear a good way out before I finally collapse into the dirt. At least if I could have managed to free the spear, I would have it as a weapon but that's clearly not going my way. I look around me for one of the many weapons the Careers had scattered around the Cornucopia and my eyes focus in on a sword that's not too far away. I can get there. I don't have to die a coward. _

_ I know that One had been offended when I refused to join their pack before the Games had ever begun. I know that Finnick believed I had been foolish for shunning them but I would be in this position now regardless of whether I had linked up with them or not. _

_ I turn over, leaning on my elbows, and I suddenly scramble back, hoping to find the sword. One is here and he is aiming an axe for my neck to cut my head clean off. It is exhaustion, not skill, that makes my elbows give out and makes One miss my neck. Instead his axe cuts across my chest, slicing me open from shoulder to breast. I wonder for a brief minute how this is a boy and not a man, how small I am beneath him. Then my survival instincts kick in._

_ The hulking boy in front of me is just as exhausted as I am and probably as hungry. It is taking him a long time to get his axe back into position. I look behind me and see the sword. It is taking everything within me to not pass out, to not give up, but for some unfathomable reason, I think I have a chance at winning and so I have a chance to go home. I prop myself up and reach my right arm behind me. My hand wraps around the hilt of the sword. District One doesn't seem to notice this because he's getting closer to me, probably to kill me in some horrible and gruesome way to officially cement his victory. Instead I use all of my remaining strength and adrenaline to propel the sword through the air. My arms are strong, fueled by years of swimming. My body moves with it, even though it protests. I barely register that the sword sinks into the boy's neck and I am completely horrified as I watch his head fall from his body. I feel myself hit the ground and again I know that I am screaming._

I shoot up in bed and try to calm my breathing. It is the same nightmare I've had ever since I knew about the Quarter Quell and it has only intensified since I volunteered for Annie Cresta at the reaping. I wouldn't have, I sincerely wouldn't have but it was all over Mags' face. I had shaken my head and stepped forward before Mags had had the chance. Annie had been crying hysterically to begin with and when I volunteered for her, she only cried harder. I could hear her in my head now.

"Rowan, please! Not you!" I stepped forward and saw Mags trying to comfort Annie, one of the only other victors who has ever been my friend. But Annie became largely unstable after her Games. When I won the year before her, I wondered whether I would ever be right again but it is clear that Annie has it so much worse than me.

I was wearing a blue and green gown that had been gifted to me by my stylist from the Capitol for my Victory Tour six years ago. It was ill fitting because I had been eating ravenously since the announcement of the Quarter Quell. I'd almost died at age sixteen in the arena of starvation and I made a promise to myself that I would never reach that low point again.

As I stepped forward and climbed onto the stage, I heard our Capitol consort say, "Rowan Tamsin, the female tribute from District 4!" I had never bothered to learn this woman's name. She wasn't the same woman who had accompanied me to the 69th Hunger Games and so she was less than important to me.

My gown was blowing about my feet and I felt a growing chill as I saw the people standing before me in the square. Vaguely, I could still hear Annie crying and I knew that I had done the right thing by her, even if it meant my death. It would've been cruel to let someone like her go back into any sort of arena. She would have died brutally and the entire time leading up to it, her condition would have only grown worse.

"Now for the men!" our consort said cheerfully, even though there was nothing cheerful about this day. I watched her hand comb through the few folded up pieces of paper in the bottom of a fishbowl. I had been chanting to myself not to cry, not to cry, but when she said the name on that piece of paper, I almost lost it. "Finnick Odair." I gasped, my hand reaching to cover my mouth in shock.

There had been silence in the square at the calling of his name. Finnick Odair is one of, if not the most, popular victors in Hunger Games history. He is beautiful, powerful, and charismatic. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is the reason I had sponsors and received anything in the arena, including a loaf of bread that probably saved my life. I have always admired Finnick. I've known and adored him for years. The last time I saw him was six months ago when the Quarter Quell was announced. I'd argued with him. I hate it but over the past couple of years, we've grown almost… distant because he is so beloved by the Capitol. Still, I know he is more than a swell lover or funny company. He is more than a pretty face.

Finnick arrived on the stage, standing opposite me. No one volunteered for him. He stared at me almost sadly and I knew that he understood why I had volunteered. For a brief minute, I avoided his gaze but when I looked around, I saw the image projected on every screen of me cutting off the head of the boy from District One. I had long forgotten his name. Or maybe, I had blocked it out. I looked at my feet until I was made to shake hands with Finnick.

Instead of just taking my hand, he grabbed it and pulled me into a hug. The shock on my face was probably pretty plain but I hugged him back and didn't flinch when his mouth brushed my forehead. We were friends, despite any arguments and also victors close to the same age. This had cemented us as a team and it doubtless made citizens in the Capitol cry for us.

They had immediately dragged the two of us thru the Justice Building, denying us the opportunity to say goodbye to any remaining family members. I just wanted to see Annie. She wouldn't be a mentor to us, not that we needed one now. I fought against the Peacekeepers to see her but there was no point. I saw a glimpse of my mother in the crowd as they closed the doors. She nodded at me with no show of emotion.

The first night on the train to the Capitol had been rough. I shut myself in my bedroom and finally allowed myself to cry about it. I don't have any family left, other than my mother and she clearly understands why I had protected Annie and to a certain extent, protected Mags. But she had deserved a farewell. My only thought of her now is how she will look when she receives my coffin, all dressed up from the Capitol.

The first night on the train had also been concluded by my usual nightmare. Sometimes I think to myself that Annie must have similar dreams because what drove her to madness is also what sometimes makes me feel unstable; the act of beheading. I can't imagine how terrible it would've been to see the person you came into the Games with beheaded in front of you but I had actually taken a life that way. I feel like it should be driving me insane more than it does every night. I feel like I should think about it every day. I took a boy's life. It will haunt me forever.

I had shot up in my bed, just like I have now, and the door to my bedroom had opened with such force that I thought it would fall off its hinges. Finnick bounded in and had obviously never even gone to sleep.

"Are you okay?" he had asked. "I heard screaming."

"Yes," I replied. "I'm fine." He came forward anyway and sat on my bed. I thought about moving back from him but I stayed close. I saw a doctor once a couple of years ago, who had informed me that touching someone else or just being close to them was a wonderful calming effect. When I had nightmares at home, I got close to my mom or Annie, when she was around.

"District One again?" I nodded. He remembers my nightmare from my Victory Tour and Annie's the year after. I find that kind of him. "Rowan, why'd you do this? Why did you volunteer?" I wanted to react like I was offended but the look on his face said that it wasn't an insult. The look on his face said that he might care.

"I saw Mags starting to go forward and-" Finnick's nod cut me off.

"Well, that explains everything. I guess our little family trio is going back to work." He winked at me and that made me smile. "I think we've got a good shot. You've gained weight since the last time I saw you." That wasn't an insult either. "I think that was a pretty good idea but you don't have to worry about eating. I'll make sure you don't go hungry this time."

"Please don't burden yourself by trying to look after me," I said, wrapping my arms around my knees. I didn't want to see his reaction.

"It's not a burden. We'll be a team." I shook my head in response.

"I don't want to do that to you. Let's just go our separate ways. You'll have a better chance at allies without me." He groaned.

"I know what you're doing and I'm not falling for it. Don't ask me to leave you behind, Rowan. You know that together, we'll be almost unstoppable. We could make it to the end." I looked at him and remembered why I liked him in the first place.

"And then what? I can't hurt you," I muttered. "I know I can't hurt you." I honestly can't believe I even admitted that to him. We're friends but the Games would turn us into adversaries. I knew that.

"Maybe you won't have to." The way he said it made me think he knows something I don't. "Think about it. We either go into this as allies or I just follow you around the arena. It's up to you." I laughed and he touched me on the arm before leaving.

Laying back down in bed now, secure in the fact that I haven't screamed tonight on the train, I know that I will give in to Finnick. I will join him as an ally because the idea of killing him makes me panic. The smallest thought of his blood on my hands, or anyone else's, makes me shake. I've got to make sure he wins. For Mags and Annie, he has to win.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews! This first part will be in third person! I hope you enjoy it! Hopefully, I'll update again later this week. I own nothing but Rowan.**

Haymitch had been reviewing the other victors' strengths and weaknesses with Katniss and Peeta all morning. There was a brother and sister team from District One that had won in consecutive years and both were incredibly bloodthirsty. From District Two, there was a woman who had filed all of her teeth to points so that she was able to rip people's throats out with them. Neither of the first two Career districts looked like they had any obvious weaknesses. District Three didn't look quite as terrifying or as physically fit but Haymitch stressed that both victors, Beetee and Wiress, were incredibly intelligent. Katniss wondered whether she might want them as allies.

When Haymitch brought up District Four, Peeta was almost nervous. The tributes from Four and the girl tribute from Seven were the youngest aside from Katniss and Peeta. They might make the best allies… or the worst enemies.

"That is Finnick Odair," explained Haymitch, replaying footage of their reaping. Finnick had golden hair, bronze skin, and he was quite clearly beautiful by anyone's standards. "He won his Games at 14, youngest ever. He's extremely humble."

"You're kidding," replied Katniss.

"Yes, I'm kidding! He's a peacock, a total preener. But he's a Capitol darling. They love him there. He's charming, smart, and very skilled in combat, especially in the water."

"Any weaknesses?" asked Peeta.

"He'll have at least one; his district partner, Rowan." Haymitch clicked a button on his remote and the images turned to Rowan Tamsin, standing alone on the side of the stage in Four. She had just volunteered for an extremely upset girl. "She volunteered for Annie Cresta, a fellow victor who is by all accounts, one of Rowan's only friends as she happens to be quite the thorn in the Capitol's side."

Peeta watched the footage replay and saw Rowan hesitate for a second before volunteering, looking at another victor, an older woman, before she stepped forward. Standing prominent on the opposite side of the stage from Finnick, she looked strong but also fragile. It was obvious that she was holding back tears. But everything else about her appearance was sturdy. She was pretty, though no one would have put her in the same category as Finnick Odair. Her hair was probably naturally dark but it had been lightened from so much time in the sun that it gradually became blonde at the ends. Her skin was tanned and showed no evidence of scars from her time in the arena. She kept her mouth taut and seemed to blink her green eyes too often.

"Why would she be a weakness?" asked Katniss. "She looks healthy and strong." Onscreen Rowan had begun looking at her feet, as though she was embarrassed by the attention. Peeta saw the muscles in her arms ripple as she clenched her fists. "Didn't she decapitate someone?"

"Yeah, she did decapitate someone but it's practically driven her mad since," said Peeta.

"So she's unstable, just like Annie Cresta, and Finnick will have to take care of her." They knew he most likely always had. In Rowan's arena, where everything any of the tributes would have wanted to eat was poisonous, Finnick had sent her a loaf of bread that literally saved her life. From there, he only advocated for more. Haymitch had never seen Finnick work harder for any other tribute and he and Mags had practically ignored the boy who had been reaped that year.

"I would not underestimate Rowan," Haymitch threw in. "She refused to join up with the Career pack in her Games, almost starved to death, and still managed to win. She also has a pretty high sense of self preservation and with Finnick by her side, she could be a force to be reckoned with. But if he's trying to protect her in any way, it exposes him."

"A guy like that… will he really look after her when the time comes? Is she too fragile to kill anyone?" Katniss asked.

"Well, I certainly hope that if she goes, she goes quickly. Rowan is one of the few victors that I actually think isn't terrible. Besides, she spends her free time trying to spit in the Capitol's face over how little they actually allow other districts, like 12, to eat." Katniss understood his tone; that Rowan may be helping in the rebellions or wanting to. "And whatever you think of Finnick right now, you can be assured that he won't leave her behind. He adores her. She's probably the only tribute I've ever seen him really root for in the arena and they're at each other's side at every Hunger Games."

"Well, then I'm guessing they won't be divided in the arena," Katniss responded.

"You'd be right." Haymitch let the footage continue and at the usual time that the tributes would shake hands, Finnick hugged Rowan to him and kissed her on the forehead. It was weirdly personal, more personal than Katniss and Peeta's reaping had been. "Finnick was only eighteen when Rowan competed in her Games at sixteen. They're close in age and pretty good at some of the same skills. Did you notice earlier when she volunteered that she looked to Mags, the older victor, before stepping forward? Mags was both Finnick and Rowan's mentor. She practically raised Finnick. She's a second mother to Rowan. And all three of them look out for Annie Cresta. Those four victors are a tightly knit group that no one will ever break up and I suspect that Finnick and Rowan will only get closer before it's all said and done."

"So the two of us, the pair from District 1, and Rowan and Finnick will probably be the only victors to stick close to their district partners," said Peeta, immediately writing something down in the notebook that he'd been using to take notes on all of the victors.

"That's exactly right. Finnick has already made the effort to make sure the other victors see them as a team. Their top priority in the arena will be each other. They may take on allies, they may not."

"He wouldn't be the worst victor to team up with." Katniss practically rolled her eyes because she thought exactly the opposite.

"If you want Finnick, you'll have to go through Rowan. I doubt you'll get one without the other until they're eventually separated in the arena."

As far as Peeta was concerned, having them both would only be a plus.

**-Rowan-**

I finally decide to stop being rude the next morning and get dressed in light colored pants and a blue top to go to breakfast. When I walk out of my compartment on the train, I see Finnick standing beside my door. "Agrippina," he says when I give him a weird look.

"What?" I respond.

"Our escort. That's her name. Agrippina. I know you never bothered to learn it."

"I'm pretty bad with names," I admit. "I'll try to make a point to remember it." But I know that I probably won't. I will know this woman from the Capitol for only a few days before I am sent into a new arena with all experienced killers. I know that I will not make it out alive. Somehow, that's more important to me than remembering our escort's name.

"She'll get offended if you forget," Finnick responds. "She's pretty vain."

"Well, I guess you would know about that," I say and it gets a laugh out of him. Finnick is an easy laugher and it automatically puts me at ease.

"Do you want to go to breakfast?" He asks that as if I have a choice in the matter. Although, yesterday when he came to ask me the same thing, he brought me quite a bit of food and I didn't even have to answer him.

I nod but as I walk with him into the dining car, I feel a pit beginning to form in my stomach. I barely notice that all the way there, Finnick has kept an arm around me, like we are old friends (which, I guess, we are), and I wonder whether that's the reason I've even made it to the dining car. Once inside, my eyes fix on Mags. My heart drops. Suddenly, I feel so selfish and guilty. She has been my mentor and lives across from me in Victor's Village. She is my only family other than my mother, Annie, and, I suppose, Finnick. She probably believes that I have already given up. I cannot disappoint her like this again.

Finnick moves away from me and I feel my shield from everyone else drop. Agrippina, clothed in an extravagant green dress and with a blue wig to match, is already carrying on. She is obviously pleased that I have decided to join everyone for breakfast today.

"Should we watch the recap of the reaping?" she asks in that terrible accent that everyone from the Capitol has. Finnick looks to me to make the decision, again like I have any say in the matter. I nod at Agrippina and sit down across from Mags.

As Agrippina pulls things up on the television in the room, Finnick takes a seat on my right side and Mags tries to say something to me. She had a stroke a few years ago and can now barely string words together. Finnick can understand her better than I can but suddenly, she makes a motion that looks like she's taking a pill. I know what she means before Finnick tells me.

"She says there are pills you can take for the nightmares." He almost whispers it, as though he knows that it embarrasses me.

I muster up a smile before heaping food on my plate. "Thanks," I say. "I'll try them." I don't mention that I have tried them and that they didn't help. They only held me in sleep longer and struggling to wake up would result in screaming. I suppose I scream regardless.

Even though I am almost sick about watching the reaping, I force myself to eat more than I normally would. When the reaping comes on, I feel myself tense up. I turn to watch the television and push my plate away from me. I need to focus on this. Finnick moves to look over my shoulder and I know that he will be making note of every opponent we must go up against.

District One is up first, the brother/sister pair of Gloss and Cashmere. "Gosh, they're beautiful, aren't they?" Agrippina gushed. "How gorgeous. Watch out, Finnick! You've got some competition." I snort in response.

"No, you don't," I mutter. He laughs and I feel his breath against my shoulder. It hits me how close we are to each other. What is he trying to play at? We've never done this kind of thing before. Is this the angle he wants to play in the Games?

District Two comes on and I literally gulp when I see their two victors, Enobaria and Brutus. Brutus volunteered because he wanted to go back in and I am terrified of him. I am wracking my brain, trying to remember whether I have met him before. I hope not. As for Enobaria, I know I have spoken with her at least once. Her teeth are filed to points because she ripped out an opponent's throat in her Games. She is well prepared this time around.

District Three relaxes me a little. Beetee and Wiress are older but are still clever. Agrippina automatically assumes they will be no match for Finnick and I.

Then they show us and I realize that while I thought I had been in control of my emotions, I hadn't been. I am barely holding back tears and staring at my feet. My hair is blowing around me and I think I look pitiful. I look back at Mags for a second and she only gives me a nod of confidence. Finnick makes me look better in the reaping. When he hugs me, I see that he has almost hidden my face from view, saving me the humiliation of breaking down on camera. I am clearly clinging to him for dear life. Of the first four districts, I look like the weakest tribute and I know that every other victor watching this has already figured that out. When I feel a hand against my arm, I fear that they have already thought of something else as well; that Finnick will be taking care of me.

"That was really great," Agrippina says, pausing the footage and causing me to stop thinking of Finnick. "You two are… perfect! Such a team! Such a show of unity! The Capitol will love that! So much for the star crossed lovers from District Twelve."

"They got reaped?" I ask, almost dumbly. I knew that the girl, Katniss, must have been because she is the only female victor Twelve has had in years but the boy, Peeta… I am glad for Haymitch's safety but this Quarter Quell is not right. The two of them are still kids while the rest of us have had time to get to know each other, to build relationships with the people who could sponsor us.

"Well, of course! This will be the best Games of all!" I feel my hands balling into fists. She's so stupid. Everyone in the Capitol is. "Of course, I know how terrible this must be for you both." She's trying to right herself after seeing my expression.

"Do you?" I reply, tight lipped. I hear Finnick sigh behind me and I can only imagine how Mags feels about my awful manners but Agrippina ignores me and finishes the recap of the reaping.

There is a pair of morphlings from District Six, which I find sad but I also find comforting. Neither of them will make it far. District Seven reveals Johanna Mason, a victor I have met multiple times and still barely like. District Twelve ends the reaping, with an emotional send off. I am grateful that I don't really know any of the other victors. I never thought that keeping to myself in the Capitol would benefit me but it has.

"Well, quickly before we reach the Capitol, we should talk about your strategy," says Agrippina. I appreciate that she seems to be talking to us both, where normally tributes would split off for separate training. "I think what happened at the reaping was beautiful! Are you going to keep that up?" I don't respond and neither does Finnick, as I think he is waiting for me to say something. "The tribute/mentor relationship thing!"

I nod. If Finnick wants us to go in together, we may as well take it all the way.

"Oh, the Capitol will eat that up! We just _love _you there!" By the look on her face, I can tell what Agrippina will say next. After all, she did imply that we could replace the "star crossed lovers from District Twelve." "Have you given any thought to doing something more with it?" She raises a colored on eyebrow.

"That wouldn't help Finnick," I say. "Everyone is in love with him." I want to say that I'm sure every lover he takes thinks she's the one and so they will all hate me but I don't. I wonder whether that would offend him.

"That doesn't matter," he says. "We're going to be a team. It doesn't have to be… explicit or anything." I turn my head and look back at him with my eyes wide. I had been right when I wondered whether this was the angle he wanted to play. Perhaps he's even been talking about it to Mags and Agrippina while I was holed up in my room, pathetic and alone.

"I don't know," I mutter. Now I look to Mags, who doesn't seem to be objecting to it.

"Why?" asks Finnick. "Don't you like me?" He's trying to be funny.

"Of course, I like you." Looking at Finnick now, I know that I will give into this. First, I decide to ally with him and now, I'm willing to take it as far as he wants. I shouldn't agree to something romantic. I wonder if I'll be able to distinguish between real and fake feelings. Besides, there was once a time when I did see Finnick in that light. Why would I want to dig up those old emotions when I'm going to die a few weeks?

"Then there's no issue," he says. He wants to say more to me but will wait until we are alone. I am already dreading that conversation.

"Great!" Agrippina exclaims. "I think that Rowan is right though; everyone is in love with Finnick. Therefore, he should play it rather aloof and Rowan, you could play it up as though there's always been a little something there for you." I nod. That would be easy enough.

"Sure," I respond. "I can do that." Agrippina looks openly relieved.

She announces that we are close to the Capitol so we should change. I assume that idea is purely for my benefit because I look positively underdressed next to her. After saying goodbye to Mags, I leave the dining car immediately and find my way to my room, even though I am aware that Finnick is hot on my heels. I don't even get the chance to open the door because he moves in front of me.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he asks, keeping his voice low. He's close to me again, a physical reminder of where I come from. He's taut, muscular, golden like the sun, and I can actually smell salt water on him. It makes me feel like I am home.

"Yes," I whisper. I am suddenly unnerved by how weirdly hurt he looks. "Are you sure you want to do this… with me?"

"Do what?"

I look down at my feet. "Even pretend that you want to be with me romantically?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I can hear how wounded he is in his voice.

"I- I just know what you do and-"

"Oh, so this about me working in the Capitol." His whole tone and demeanor change. This topic is one we steer clear of because it inevitably riles us up. Finnick clearly doesn't want me to mention it. I doubt he even wants me to know. But I do know and I hate everything about it. I'm aware he has no choice, even though he's never brought that up. He's mindful of the fact that I hate the Capitol in every capacity, even though I've never brought that up. We're too busy trying to tiptoe around each other's feelings to ever have a real conversation about it. "You'll reject me out of hand because I spend time there," he accuses. I shake my head. "You don't have to hide it anymore. I know that it disgusts you."

"Finnick, I'm just worried about you." That catches his attention. He gazes at me, obviously already apologetic. "I don't want you to do something you don't want to do."

"And why wouldn't I want to do this? I've already told you, I want you to be my ally."

"There's being allies and there's playacting. You do that for a living and I know you're good at it. But one or both of us is going to die in a matter of weeks. You should spend this time finally doing something _you _want to do and not what someone told you. I'll fawn over you if you want. I'll look at you like you're beautiful. But I'm not committing to a fake relationship. You deserve better."

"Rowan," he says, "nobody is forcing me to do anything anymore. From here on out, everything I do is my choice."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." For some reason, I find that consoling. Finnick is so sweet and charming that I want to believe him. I want to think that if he didn't know me, he would still choose me as an ally. As it is, I know our long friendship is the reason he's attaching himself to me.

"We're in this together. If you're uncomfortable with something, you can tell me but if you're holding back because you're thinking of me then I want you to remember that I will do whatever you want." I nod at him, knowing what he just told me must be a speech he regularly uses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! Sorry for the wait! I've been snowed in the past few days so I figured, why not write? I hope you enjoy this chapter! As usual, I own nothing but Rowan.**

Entering the Capitol is a blur. Crowds are waiting for the victors and it almost launches me into a full-blown panic attack. I really am lucky for having Finnick, who is the only reason I survived this madness the first time around. He knows how to work with the crowd, which must make up for the look of fear plastered on my face.

Once inside, we are ferreted away from each other and into the hands of a prep team, who are not the same as my old one. Their job at the moment is to get me to Beauty Base Zero, which is just a kind way of making me pretty to the regular people of the districts and making me average to the people of the Capitol.

My prep team mostly just talks to one another and seem to barely notice that I'm there. I think they introduced themselves to me when I first got here but their names are already a blur. There are two women, each with different parts of their faces tattooed and of course, brightly colored hair. Then there is a man, who I think actually has his skin dyed a salmon-y pink.

During the whole process of waxing me, washing me down, and smothering my hair in some good smelling product, they only speak to me directly once. It is to ask me about a shrimp shortage that the Capitol has been enduring. I feel like laughing when they ask me because I would be happy to see that no one here ever has shrimp again but then it occurs to me that I am barely aware of the shrimp shortage. Is Four actually rebelling and I have been oblivious to it this entire time?

I don't have time to think about it as I am ushered into a room to await my stylist, a woman named Pria, who I do remember from my first Games. She may look over the top but she doesn't act it, like a lot of Capitol citizens do. After standing naked in front of her for at least fifteen minutes, I expect to her to cover me in some thick fishing net, like my outfit for the Opening Ceremony last time. Instead she barely covers me at all.

Pria situates what can only be described as a seashell bra on my chest and covers my lower half with a cleverly designed net. I still feel naked but I don't question it. Finnick is probably getting the brunt of bad costumes right now. Clearly, our stylists thought the more people saw of us, the better. I may agree with that on Finnick but I look terrified and being half naked doesn't help that.

I stand in front of a mirror after my prep team has braided my long hair into a crown and stuck other shells in it. Now they seem to be covering me in a glitter that mimics water droplets. I am surprised to admit that I don't look bad. I appear regal and almost powerful.

By the time they are finished, the Opening Ceremony is about to begin. This fills me with dread and I feel my newly painted nails digging into my skin as I am led down to the Remake Center. This is where the tributes are gathered and waiting to be situated in their chariots. I hear a last word of advice from Pria (something like, "Stand straight and suck in your stomach") before I am left standing alone.

Normally, being alone is rather standard for me. Even at my house in Victor's Village, my mother and I typically keep to ourselves. It doesn't bother me. In fact, I think I prefer it. This is a facet of my personality that I cannot say was shaped by the Games. Before I was reaped at sixteen, I had already been a loner. Little did I know, that probably gave me an advantage in the arena. But now, I am not so sure.

I look around for a minute, mostly trying to find Finnick, but all I see are victors talking to one another. On the train, I had been grateful that I never really associated with these people but now I can see that had been foolish. These Games would be built around alliances. Everyone here already knew one another, already knew how the others fight, but I am the odd man out. Finnick, who has been playing the Capitol's game since he was still practically a child, is much better equipped to be dealing with this. In contrast, I am going to be going into the arena blind. Not only will I be fragile mentally, I will not have made the connections necessary to stay alive past the first few hours.

My mind immediately conjures up an image of my mother from before my first Games, when they had actually allowed the tributes to say goodbye to their family members. My mother had not exactly doubted me but she knew that I was ill-prepared for something like this. Her only words of advice to me had been, "Don't resist anyone's assistance. Any help that Finnick wants to give you, you should take."

My eyes finally focus on him, walking up to Katniss Everdeen from District Twelve. As I guessed, his outfit is significantly worse than mine and by the look on Katniss' face, she agrees with me. I wonder what he plans on achieving by talking to her. Other than me, she and Peeta are most likely the victors with the smallest amount of connections.

"Rowan? Rowan Tamsin?" A voice makes me jump and I almost turn to elbow whoever it belongs to. I immediately drop my guard when I see who was talking to me; Peeta Mellark. I wonder now whether Katniss and Peeta want Finnick and I as allies, seeing as they'd tag-teamed us. "I'm Peeta from District Twelve." I nod at him but I don't respond. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I just saw you alone and figured that now was the time to ask."

"To ask me what?" I say. I take in the boy's appearance. How old is he? Seventeen? He's a good size. He's about my height but much bigger and by extension, much stronger. He's not carrying himself like he's always on guard, like I am. Why would he want me to be an ally?

"I heard your talent is in baking." He smiles at me and for some reason, I feel a little of the burden that's been weighing down on me lift.

"Yes, it is," I respond. Every victor has a "talent" that they started cultivating after they won. The idea is that since we no longer have to work, we need something to fill up our time. I chose baking and have since become very good at it.

"I was watching some old press videos on the train and I saw your victory tour. That cake you made for Finnick and Mags was brilliant. What else can you do?" I feel my cheeks color. No one ever tells me how beautiful my cakes are except Finnick and my mother and I always assumed they were only saying it for my benefit.

"Well, recently, I've been trying my hand at making starfish out of icing. They're rather intricate." He nods and smiles again.

"I've never done anything with any sort of fish before. You'll have to show me how you decorate your cakes. Maybe we can exchange some ideas."

"I would love that," I say. "I'm sure I can learn a lot from a baker's son." Peeta looks proud of himself and I have automatically decided that I like him. After only a moment of silence, Peeta says something else.

"Are you used to wearing stuff like that in your district?" I sort of laugh and shake my head.

"I think my costume is designed to barely cover me so that I can't technically be called naked." Peeta laughs at my comment. This is odd because I know for a fact that I am not funny. The only other person who laughs at the things I say is Finnick. My thoughts are interrupted as I hear music beginning, signaling to the tributes to go to their chariots.

"Well, Rowan, I'll see you later!" says Peeta with another smile. We walk away from each other and I am stuck still thinking about how odd our exchange was.

Finnick walks away from Katniss as Peeta approaches. He comes towards me like he's excited that I decided to show up. Before I have the chance to ask him why, he says, "You want a sugar cube?" Finnick offers one to me from his bronze and callused hand. I raise my eyebrows.

"Is that what you were saying to poor Katniss?" I ask. But I take the sugar cube anyway and pop it in my mouth. Looking over my shoulder, I see Katniss and Peeta looking at us. Katniss looks wary but Peeta looks pleasant.

"She couldn't resist my charm," Finnick responds when we reach our chariot.

"Actually, it looked like she was the only one who could." He made a face in response.

"Well, what was Peeta talking to you about?"

"I actually thought he was going to ask me to ally with him but he wanted to talk about baking and decorating cakes. I liked him."

Finnick helps me up onto our chariot and then smirks. "He's probably talking to Katniss now, telling her how great you are and she's replying with, 'Finnick makes my skin crawl.'" I begin laughing.

"Don't be silly," I respond. "I don't think you can make anyone's skin crawl." He gives me an enigmatic smile. Why did I say that? It doesn't matter whether it's true. But then I think to myself, I am going to die soon. I should spend this time being kind to people who deserve it and mean to people who don't. Despite the fact that Finnick is completely loved by the Capitol, he deserves every bit of kindness I can show him. He saved my life once and he seems to be willing to save it again.

The chariot for District One starts trotting off and all of a sudden, I am aware of the moment and where I am. I am about to be paraded around in front of a group of people that I despise. My main concern is that it will completely unnerve me and then, who knows what will happen? I'm not very good at handling stress, particularly anything that makes me remember my Games. I know that this will trigger me. What if I have some sort of flashback?

"Do you think you'll be okay?" asks Finnick. "Or do you want to hold my hand?" Our chariot began to move and I took hold of his hand when he offered it to me.

"Thank you," I mutter. I know that physical closeness helps me. Touching someone grounds me and lets me focus on something that has nothing to do with the things I'm trying to avoid.

"You don't have to smile or wave like last time," he tells me. "In fact, I think we should look like we're better than they are."

"Okay," I reply. I don't say what I'm really thinking, which is that we are_ much_ better than they are.

I do my best to pretend that the crowd is not there but it isn't as simple as it seems. People are screaming our names left and right, which only serves to make me jittery. My grip tightens on Finnick's hand. Deep breaths. In and out. Pretend that I am not here. Pretend that I am at home, swimming, baking, sitting with Annie. Focus on Finnick's hand. By the time I have chanted these things to myself, the Opening Ceremony is finished. I have even managed to completely ignore President Snow welcoming us to the Quell.

Once it is over, I see Mags and Agrippina waiting for us in the Training Center. They both seemed pleased, whether by our overall performance or by the fact that I didn't lose it on national television, I'm not sure.

"At the rate you're going, you don't even need us to tell you what to do!" says Agrippina. She always seems so excited to be talking to us.

"Well, we have done this before," I say. _And ended up winning, _I think.

Nobody else has time to say anything before we and the other victors are ushered towards the elevators. They are not fooling anyone by doing this. It is obvious that the Capitol does not like the open camaraderie between tributes this year. I hope to myself that they are regretting it. At this point, they cannot cancel the Games but we could all make sure it is known that we aren't happy about it. I think of what I know of the other victors and their popularity with people in the Capitol and even in the districts. People won't be happy to see their favorites, like Finnick and now Peeta and Katniss, thrust back into an arena with only one winner.

We ride in the elevator with the tributes from District Three. I don't say anything, mostly because I can't think of anything to say. I really am lucky to be with Finnick. He does the talking so that I don't have to. But there is something strange about the conversation he's having with Beetee and Wiress. I can't figure it out necessarily but it almost sounds like there's some kind of code that I'm not privy to.

They get off on the third floor and when we arrive on the fourth, I see Mags give Finnick a look. From that cue, Finnick turns to me and says, "Can I talk to you about something later? Alone?" I am taken aback by the request but I nod.

"Sure," I reply.

I wish that he would go on and tell me what's going on now so that I don't have to sit around wondering what it is. But I take advantage of the time to get out of this ridiculous costume and put on something that covers me. I pull on a sea green sweater and white silky pants. Then I meet with Mags, Agrippina, and Finnick for dinner.

"What a shame that you changed out of that costume," says Finnick. Unconsciously, I feel my face get hot. I laugh in response.

Whatever it is that Finnick wants to speak to me about, it is clear that Agrippina is not aware of it. She chatters the entire time we eat. The three of us nod or say things when it's clear she wants approval. After dinner, we watch the procession through City Circle. There's not much comment to make on the tributes this year. Normally, when I'm mentoring, there's so much to say about the Opening Ceremony and all of the tributes but this year, I feel numb. The only thing I am pleased about is that I no longer look like the weakest among them. Clearly, the morphlings from District Six take that title.

"Tomorrow begins your training! So we should talk about strategy and possible allies at breakfast. Make sure you get a lot of sleep!" Agrippina tells us as we go our separate ways after dinner. I want to laugh because there is no possible way that I will be sleeping tonight.

Finnick waits until it is long after dark before he finally comes in to talk to me. I have changed into a sleeveless top and shorts and am grateful for it when Finnick pulls me into the bathroom. He begins turning on the shower and faucet. Almost immediately, steam fills the room.

"What exactly is going on here?" I ask slowly. At this point, I am no longer sure that I want to know. Whatever this is about, Finnick doesn't want us listened in on. My mind begins to wander when I think of the fact that there might be cameras in my bedroom and that they could pick up whatever we talk about anywhere on the fourth floor.

"I wasn't sure whether I should tell you about this because it could put you at more risk than you already are," he says, keeping his voice low. I begin to feel confused. Put me more at risk? I am going to be competing in the Hunger Games against people with a lot more experience than me. How much more at risk could I get? "How much do you know about the rebellion?"

The steam begins making me sweat and I make myself sit down on the floor, the tile still cold against my legs. "I- I don't know that much," I say. "My prep team asked me about a shrimp shortage and that was news to me." Finnick sits down in front of me, his legs bare as well. He nods.

"How do you feel about what Katniss and Peeta did at the end of the Games last year?" My mind begins racing. Truthfully, I had applauded them but I have never believed that what Katniss did with the berries was intentional.

"I don't think they knew what they were doing but I felt good about it." Anything that skillfully undermines the Capitol is something I am a fan of but I know that this is different. Finnick is asking me about this for a reason.

"I figured that you would agree with it," he replies.

"What does this have to do with anything? I think a rebellion would be great but do you honestly believe that anyone could be organized enough to do it? Besides that, Katniss and Peeta are going back into the arena with us and I don't think the odds are in their favor."

"See, that's where we come in. You, me, some of the other victors, and some officials are in on this plan. The basic gist of it is that we need to protect Katniss in the arena and by default, we need to protect Peeta too." I want to question this but Finnick continues. "The Quell is not going to finish with a winner. In fact, it's not going to finish at all." I listen as Finnick explains that at some point during the Games, those of us remaining will be air lifted out of the arena. He doesn't give me a location for after that and he does not even tell me explicitly who is involved. All he tells me is that we are going to protect Katniss and Peeta for the rebellion (which is expected to go into overdrive once the Quell begins).

"Is protecting Peeta and Katniss the entire plan?" I ask. I know what the answer is; of course not. I'm trying to fit all the pieces together but I feel like I am missing many intricate parts.

Finnick runs a hand through his wavy hair and simply asks, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I trust you," I say in response. In fact, I believe that Finnick may be the one of the few who I actually do trust.

"This is all I can tell you right now." I nod. I pretend to believe him. I know that there is much more that he could tell me but I feel like this goes back to his original statement; that knowing all of this puts me much more at risk. But then it occurs to me that of course he wouldn't give me all of the details. There are so many unknown possibilities with me. Who knows what could happen? "As for now, I think our best bet would be to get the two of them to at least like one of us. People will be really concerned with allies tomorrow so if you can do your best to get in with them, we'll already be halfway there." I nod again. "So are you fine with all of this?"

"Yeah," I say. "I understand now." Finnick hadn't outright stated it but now I had some kind of idea of what he'd been saying to Wiress and Beetee. They are in on it and apparently, so is Mags since she seemed to push Finnick to tell me.

"We'll have plenty of time to talk more about this tomorrow, if you want." I nod. I am glad that he is willing to let us talk about it more because I have tons of questions. But he's right. They can wait until tomorrow, after I've done some thinking. My immediate reaction to all of this is such utter relief at the fact that Finnick and I have a good chance of not dying in the arena. I need some time to think past it. "Now comes the weird part."

Finnick gets up off the floor so I stand too. "What weird part?" I reply.

"We have to leave the bathroom at some point," he says, "so we need to look like we have a reason for being in here all this time." I am glad for the steam because I know that my face is already red.

"Okay," I mutter. Just like that, all the seriousness is gone and Finnick begins to smirk.

"It shouldn't be that hard to pretend you find me attractive." I shake my head because it isn't hard and because I would never be pretending.

"I've never- I just don't know-"

"You just have to follow my lead, Rowan. We'll be doing this kind of thing in public soon enough." I nod. I know that he is correct. It is strange to think of putting on a performance for cameras that I can't see but it is smart of Finnick to have already thought of this.

He manages to wet his hair under the faucet and helps me do the same. I try not to think of the fact that this implies that we showered together. He reminds me that all I have to do is follow his lead and then he finally turns off the shower and the faucet. When he opens the door, he links our fingers together and leads me out. I start to smile and when Finnick looks back at me, he's smiling too. I let him lead to my bed, as my stomach starts turning.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says down to me, letting go of my fingers in order to put his hands to my face. I have yet to stop smiling.

"That sounds great," I reply. Finnick curves his mouth into a grin as he pushes hair away from my face. Before I have had time to think of anything else, he has kissed me. My hands are still resting against his hips but I let myself push up his shirt. Then Finnick has pulled away from me. After one last kiss to my forehead, he has left me in my room alone.

I smile again after I crawl in bed. That was brilliant. It was so smart, so believable. Then I think to myself that this is something Finnick does all the time; convincing others he is in love with them. He does it very well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! I am SO SO SO SORRY about the lack of updates over the past few months. I am complete trash, omg. I have no excuses except being disappointed in my writing. But I just edited the first three chapters, changing those elements of writing that I really didn't like, so you can read those over if you want (I personally just think they're better written than they were). But thank you for the support for this fic! I only own Rowan. Please tell me what you think.**

When I enter the Training Center the next day, I feel like I finally might be in my element. The last time I was in a training center, I had been a complete novice. Finnick had encouraged me to show off while there because I looked weak and unassuming. I remember picking up a spear and throwing it across the room to pierce the wall. None of the other tributes underestimated me again, including my district partner, a boy so completely jealous of the attention Mags and Finnick showed me that he turned on me before the Games had even begun. But now I know that I may need to show off again, in order to prove to Katniss and Peeta that I am an ally worth having, not just a girl who has had a mental break.

I take in all of the stations. The poisonous plant station catches my eye initially because it is one I looked over my first time around. I won't make that mistake again. I look around the room and see the various weapons. The swords catch my eye, reminding me of my duel with District One years ago. It had been rather simple to use one so I contemplate gravitating towards them again. But I'm probably going to be at my best with a spear because they're similar to things I've used before when fishing. Not only will it hopefully help me with food, it will allow me to injure someone without getting close to them.

Finnick seems to be eyeing the station with the spears as well because there is a trident among them. On the other side of the room, I spot a bow and some arrows. It seems like, for once, the Capitol actually wants to equip us with things we know how to use.

All of the tributes are clothed in tight black outfits with our district numbers plastered on our chests. This allows me to notice the muscle strength in each of them and it lets me know that I shouldn't underestimate anyone here. Even tributes like the morphlings have some degree of physical strength left. Surprisingly, there's pretty poor attendance in the Training Center this year. I assume this means that those who are absent are already confident in their abilities, perhaps overly confident. This is something Finnick and I can use to our advantage.

Atala, the woman in charge of training, begins talking to us right on time. I barely listen to her spiel about not ignoring smaller stations. Instead, I glance to my left and look at Finnick.

I have spent most of my time since last night trying to puzzle through what we are doing with Peeta and Katniss. I wonder who all is in on this plan with Finnick. I already know that Beetee and Wiress know something and it is rather obvious that Haymitch must be involved. Other than those three, I am not sure. I wonder whether Katniss and Peeta are even aware of the rebellion and their importance in it. I want to ask Finnick all of these questions and more but I don't think he'll tell me the answers. Even if he wanted to, we would have to be discrete again and I have to wonder whether the Capitol will keep falling for a fake love story. They already seem to be questioning Katniss and Peeta, who were supposed to be getting married in the Capitol.

Atala has finished her list of stations and releases us to train. I tell Finnick to try bonding with Peeta and that I will try to talk to Katniss. Oddly enough, I don't even have to approach her. Once Finnick leaves my side, she appears in front of me.

"I saw you volunteer for Annie Cresta," Katniss says. "That was brave of you." I assume she's leaving out that she considers me brave because I am obviously so easily broken and yet, I volunteered anyway.

"Not really," I respond. "Anyone would've volunteered for Annie." I think back to the moment at the reaping where I saw Mags beginning to step forward. I am so glad I stopped her. But Katniss smiles and this encourages me because maybe it means she likes me.

"In your Games, I saw you make a net and a fish hook. Can you show me how to do that?" she asks. I had made the net and fish hook before I discovered that the fish were poisonous. I am surprised she remembers it. But Katniss seems to be straightforward and I have no doubt that she is talking to me because Haymitch encouraged her and Peeta to find allies. Still, it saves me the trouble of having to seek her out.

"Sure," I reply, "but only if you tell me the proper way to hold a bow." I watch as she nods at me.

I learn quickly that Katniss is not a talkative person and I feel like we have something in common. I briefly explain to her how to manipulate small, sharp things into fish hooks and once she has the hang of it, I tell her how to weave a makeshift net. Her hands aren't as deft as mine or Finnick's but she is not bad. When she finishes, she even looks to me for approval and seems proud of herself.

I take a look around the training center to get a better idea of who is here. The morphlings are in the camouflage station, painting each other's skin. The siblings from District One are throwing knives. Then my eyes lock on Finnick, who is trying to tell Peeta the proper way to chuck a spear.

After I help Katniss, she helps me. "Rowan, have you ever hunted before?" Katniss asks. I shake my head. Fishing doesn't count, does it?

We first go to the poisonous plant station and she helps me sort edible plants from poisonous ones. It is much harder to do than I would have realized. Soon my mind is exhausted from trying to remember different shades of blossoms and how the shapes of leaves could determine whether it was safe to ingest the plant. Luckily, that station is completed quickly and Katniss makes me move on to learning how to start a fire. That is even worse.

As I move my hands quickly, trying to start a fire by friction, Katniss asks me, "What about knots? How good are you with those?"

"You'll have to ask Finnick about knots. He's much better at them than I am," I respond. She tries to hide what looks like a grimace from me. It makes me crack a smile for once. "Finnick told me that he thought he made your skin crawl." I try to move my hands faster and discover that I just have no luck in starting a fire.

Katniss looks nervous now, as though she is worried she has offended me. "I don't blame you. I had the same first impression," I say. Immediately after I got reaped, I found Finnick to be arrogant and insensitive. He didn't seem to accept that I was depressed and scared. He forced me to do things that I simply didn't feel I had the energy to do. He always seemed to be staring at me, daring me to make a mistake, and there was a look he would give me that made me feel like I was bare in front of him. My opinion of him changed slowly as I began to see past his public façade and my wariness of him completely cleared when he talked to me in that room before I was launched into the arena. I can still hear Finnick now, telling me he had faith in me but also promising me that he would take care of my mother if I died. "I typically can't bring myself to like a man as loved by the Capitol as he is." At that, Katniss raises her head to look at me.

"Maybe that's my problem," she replies. "So Peeta wanted to ask, what's going on with the two of you?" I freeze. "He parades around a different woman at the Games every year but not you." Katniss has figured it out but she still does not have a handle on Finnick. She has evidently not been approached by Snow the same way Finnick was. I have always despised the Capitol but when I finally understood what Finnick does for a living, it cemented my dislike. Learning about Finnick had sent me over the edge. I broke down. I recall not being able to sleep for weeks because of how scared I was that Snow would demand the same thing of me.

"Rowan's not exactly good with the public." I turn around and see Finnick, tall and broad-shouldered. "Besides, I don't charge her for the pleasure of my company."

"He's joking," I say. "He just enjoys making me uncomfortable."

"Also true," he says with a sly grin. Katniss just looks between us, clearly wishing Finnick wasn't around. "Are you hopelessly trying to help Rowan start a fire? She's a lost cause."

"Give me a few hours and I may finally get a spark," I respond.

"Actually, I was getting ready to show Rowan some archery," says Katniss.

"Good," he replies. "Can I watch?"

The three of us head to the archery station, although I am nervous to hold a real weapon for the first time in years. Katniss offers me a bow and a quiver of arrows, which I put across my back. She helps me position my arms for a while before she ever lets me even hold an arrow. Once I am officially ready for a target, she moves behind me and fixes my arms again.

"Remember to breathe," Finnick remarks, his eyes focused on me.

"Staring at me like you want me to mess up doesn't help," I reply and I hear Katniss give me a laugh.

I take Finnick's advice and breathe, then I let go. The arrow wedges itself between the first and second rings of the target. As it is shaped like a man, I think I may have had a good chance at killing him.

"That was good!" Katniss tells me.

"Thank you for showing me, Katniss," I respond as Atala dismisses us for lunch. "I guess I'll practice more after we eat." She nods, back to being quiet.

Finnick and I eat by ourselves as do Katniss and Peeta. They look over at us every few minutes as though they're still trying to figure us out.

"You've got them both," Finnick says, watching me from across the table. "They'll request you as an ally."

"And by extension, they'll gain you," I reply, taking a bite of a roll. "They think we've got something going on, you know."

"Well, that's what we want, isn't it?"

"I guess so." Honestly, the whole thing is embarrassing. There was a reason why in my Games, I never tried to play anyone, not even Caesar Flickerman. I was honest from start-to-finish.

FInnick cuts his eyes at me. "Second guessing again?"

"I just still have reservations about this," I say, pointing at myself and then at him. He groans. "Look, it may not be a big deal to you to put on a good show for these people but I don't know how to do it."

"That's not what this is about and you know it." I glance over at him and immediately feel guilty. He looks injured briefly. Even when I don't mean to mention what he does, it comes up anyway.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way." He nods, automatically believing me. I wonder how much leeway he gives me, just because I've broken down in front of him before. He must think me fragile, scared. In many ways, I am.

"Well, forget about putting on a show. I know we were advised to have you be the obvious one but I'll do it. That's more natural anyway." I agree. I'm awkward to say the least. Finnick is relaxed, charming, and he could make falling in love with me attractive. If he was the one with the overt feelings, people may like him even more and they may see me as worthwhile.

"Are you sure?" I ask. He nods.

I go back to eating for a couple of minutes but pause mid-bite when a shadow falls over our table. "Finnick, Rowan," a curt female voice says.

"Johanna," Finnick and I respond at the same time.

"How's it going? I haven't you guys since… Well, since Rowan accidentally drank that stuff last year at the president's mansion that makes you throw up so you can keep on eating." I drop my fork onto my plate.

"Yep, I'm done here," I mutter.

"Johanna," Finnick scolds.

"What?" she responds. "Was I supposed to forget about it? That was the most I've laughed in years." Yes, accidentally drinking something that makes you sick so you can continue stuffing yourself when you're in the Capitol to try to make a statement about people dying of hunger in the districts is absolutely _hilarious. _

"Well, I'm glad you found it so entertaining. I'll see you both later," I tell them as I get up. Peeta and Katniss are going back to training as well.

"Rowan, wait," Finnick says. "I'll come with you."

"No, it's okay. I think I'll get Katniss to show me how to shoot a bow again."

"Isn't a sword more your style?" Johanna asks. I clench and unclench my fists. For a second, I can see it. Grabbing hold of the hilt and swinging. District One's head falling to the ground. I grip the side of the table to steady myself.

"Good seeing you, Johanna. I'll talk to you later," Finnick says through his teeth. She rolls her eyes and leaves, giving me a sarcastic wave. Before I realize it, Finnick has come around the table and put his hands to my face. "You're all right, Rowan."

I nod. "Yeah, it was just a lapse. Thank you." I appreciate that he didn't go all the way and hug me. That would have made me appear weak.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say. He rubs his hands against my face and I take a deep breath as he drops them. "Thank you for being… so understanding." He smiles so brilliantly that I think calming me down must be his specialty.

Finnick has looked after me since I won my Games. During my Victory Tour, he was an absolute rock. While we mentored Annie and her partner, he took the lead so I didn't have to. When we watched her partner get beheaded, I remember him taking me into his arms. Each year he's been kind, thoughtful, and selfless with me when I needed it. It's as though he can see when I'm losing focus.

Peeta comes up to me not long after Johanna leaves. "I was wondering whether you wanted to spar with me," he says. That catches me off-guard.

"Yes," I reply without a thought.

"You have to promise to go easy on me," he responds with a smile. It makes me laugh.

We reach the station with the swords and I pause. I should have known that's what he meant when he said 'spar'. He picks up one and I feel my stomach churn. _It's just a weapon, _I think. _It's not the same one you used. _

"Oh, I'm sorry," Peeta says, interrupting my thoughts. "I didn't even think. If you don't want to use swords, I completely understand. We can do something else." I find that so unbelievably nice, I almost want to cry.

"No, it's okay. I can do it." I grab the hilt of a medium-sized blade. Swords made by the Capitol are much lighter than they appear. I twist it and move it around in my hand. Weirdly enough, I'm comfortable with it.

Peeta and I enter one of the glass training rooms. Even though it's obvious that Peeta is treating me gently, I find that I am enjoying myself. Rather than just being an opportunity to strengthen our fighting skills, it's fun. I try to duck Peeta's every swing and block the ones I can't. He's just as talented with the sword as I am, possibly even more so. He utilizes his brawn in more ways than just blindly attacking me.

When the day is over, I'm sad about it. Despite my interaction with Johanna (which was a typical interaction with her, all things considered), my time in the Training Center was relatively nice.

I barely shower before dinner, only because I'm certain I'll talk to Finnick later. I let my hair fall loose over a pastel blue sweater and I pull on a pair of cream pants. When I come down to dinner, Agrippina can barely contain her excitement. Mags looks hopeful and Finnick appears as confused as I am.

"I have wonderful news!" she exclaims. "I've just heard from Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket! Katniss and Peeta both want you as an ally!" It is obvious she is speaking only to me.

"Me? Just me?" I question.

"Just you… for the time being. But if they want you, surely they know they'll be getting Finnick! Keep up it up, Rowan! You know, I doubted you but I can see that was a mistake!" Agrippina says everything as though it's the most exciting thing she's ever heard.

"Good work, Rowan," Finnick says. Now I know we will absolutely talk later.

I eat and actually contribute to the conversation tonight. I have to think that spending time with Katniss and Peeta, and now knowing that they genuinely like me, has contributed to my good mood. Peeta almost reminds me of Finnick. He's kind and conscientious. Unlike Finnick, he doesn't spend time appearing like he isn't that way. Peeta is openly sweet and thoughtful. You could see in the way he looked at her that most of the time, Katniss was like the only person in the room to him. There is something about that I find reassuring. It makes me want to trust him. It makes me want to be his friend.

I am in bed, halfway asleep, when Finnick comes into my room. He does his best to rouse me without alarming me. It's hard to make myself crawl out of bed and into the bathroom. Once there, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is everywhere and my short nightgown is wrinkled.

"I have a lot of questions," I say as Finnick turns on the shower and faucet. The room steams up quickly.

"Yes, Johanna knows," he replies. That hadn't been one of my questions but I'm glad he's offered the information anyway.

"You trust _Johanna Mason _with something like this?"

"She didn't want _you _trusted with this." That does not surprise me. "Johanna's actually pretty great for the rebellion. She has no one left. She's got nothing to lose. She's willing to give this her all."

"I don't trust her."

"You don't have to trust her. Just trust me." I nod. "I can't tell you much more than this, Rowan. I don't want you to be in even more danger than you already are."

"Okay, I understand." I wonder if he's withholding these things because he is scared I will crack beneath the pressure and let it be known what's happening. Then I wonder if it is because the chances of getting caught are high and chances of torture are higher.

"You did great today. They both want you, which is exactly what we need. They won't take Johanna as an ally, I'm sure of it. They have to have us."

"So I should make them want you and then once we're in the arena, we protect them at all costs?" He shakes his head.

"Not at all costs. Katniss is the one who is important. If there's a choice, we protect her."

"But what about each other?" I say. "I don't want to leave Peeta. I like him. But my real dilemma might be you." He grins at me like my saying that completely made all of this worth it. "How can I be expected to choose a girl I barely know over someone who's been my friend for six years?" I know that what I have with Finnick sometimes transcends friendship and dives headfirst into family. He comes over to my house and eats with my mom and I. I've cooked for him, swam with him at the docks, taken care of him once when he was sick. We are side-by-side each year at the Games, mentoring two children who almost never make it out. He knows that I am unstable and instinctively understands how to handle it. If I'm honest, I have to recognize just how important Finnick is to me. In a choice between his life and someone else's, even my own, I will pick him. I owe him much of my sanity and I might even owe him my life.

"I'll be the same way. You're at the top of my list, Rowan. It is you and then her. My priorities aren't going to change due to the rebellion and it's fine if yours don't either." I nod.

"Well, good," I say. "And also, what about Peeta? He's a good person and he loves her. I want to save him too." The look on Finnick's face makes me think he finds my concern for Peeta sweet.

"Maybe we should split them between us. I'll keep an eye on Katniss and you do the same for Peeta." I smile and nod. That sounds perfect. He explains a little more about what will happen in the arena. We'll receive signs in the form of sponsor gifts that will let us know the day and time we'll be airlifted out. When the time comes, Beetee will somehow scramble the frequencies with the cameras and we will deftly get the trackers out of our arms. Since Peeta and Katniss are not aware of this, we have to take theirs out.

"When we're airlifted out of the arena, where will we go? I can't imagine any of the districts would openly take us," I say. Even Twelve, Katniss and Peeta's home, would not accept them if the rebellion takes place on the scale Finnick seems to think it will.

He makes a face, saying he can't tell me. "It's nothing personal. It's just-"

"Dangerous, I know. Have you told Mags? What about Johanna?" By the look on his handsome face, I can tell they're both aware of far more than I am.

"Johanna's been in on it from the start but Mags only knows because she was supposed to be the one going in with me." I am flabbergasted. My jaw practically hits the floor. It occurs to me that Mags volunteering had always been in the cards. Finnick would've volunteered if anyone else's name had been called. I disrupted the entire plan.

"Oh no, I took Mags's place." I cover my mouth with my hand. "I just wanted to save her and Annie."

"Her goal was to save you and Annie. It doesn't matter. This works so much better. There was a high chance that Mags wouldn't have made it out of the arena. You and I have a better shot."

"You both were going to leave Annie and I in Four while you rebelled?" Honestly, the whole situation is wild. The idea that Finnick would openly rebel this soon was strange enough but that Mags volunteered to do it as well? Doing it at the risk of losing their lives? It was admirable and courageous. It makes me love them both so much more.

"Well, the plan was to get you out before things went completely haywire." I believe him. Finnick has made a point of showing me that he doesn't want to leave me behind so I completely believe he would've saved Annie and me.

"I'm so sorry. I've completely messed up everything you were working for." Mags was stepping up in order to save Annie and I grief. I can tell she's always worried about us and I know she would've wanted to protect us from returning to an arena at any cost. Finnick also probably would've wanted her at his side because he could trust that she wouldn't break down. Now Finnick will have to look after me while also trying to protect Katniss.

"No," he replies, shaking his head, "you haven't messed up anything at all. It's better this way, Rowan. You and I will be the better team."

"No, you know that's not true." I cross my arms and look down at my feet. "I can't be sure how I'll handle going into the Games. It may not matter and I could just turn into a killing machine. But I could also freeze." And see things I never want to see again.

"Hey, you'll be fine," he tells me, walking over to me and putting his hands against my bare arms. "You won't freeze. You won't be scared."

"You don't know that. I'm scared right now."

"Well, you don't have to be. I will be with you every step of the way. I can help you." I could hear the begging in his voice practically saying, 'Let me take care of you, please.' "It'll be okay. I won't leave you. You're calm around me, you know. Maybe I'm your crutch." He smirks at me, still tender.

"Maybe you have a point."

**So I'm thinking interviews next chapter? That should be fun!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I know I promised interviews this chapter but they've been pushed back to the next one! Sorry! I also want to apologize for the long wait, yet again. I hope you all enjoy this though and please tell me what you think. I really appreciate all the support I've been given! I also only own Rowan.**

_District Eleven slashes at my midsection and I jump back at the right second. He misses anything that would gravely injure me, barely nicking the side of my ribcage. I've got to get his sword or I'll die the first day. He comes at me again and I duck before slamming into him. It knocks him off balance and he hits the ground. _

_I try to wrangle the sword from him but I am quickly failing. He cuts my arm deep and pulls my hair back. I yell but continue prying open his hands. I kick him, elbow him, do whatever I can to loosen his grip on that blade. And it happens. For a small moment, I glimpse my opportunity to grab it. In a last effort, he splits open my leg and I take hold of the hilt. _

_I scramble back as he regains his composure. I've got the sword but I'm positive I can't kill him. I look behind me and see how close I am to the lake. I audibly sigh in relief. _

_I get to my feet, blood dripping onto the ground, mixing with dirt. District Eleven is pursuing me and even without the sword, he could defeat me. I see the water and I dive. _

I sit up in bed and put my head in my hands after seeing that it is still dark. I don't dream about Eleven very often. It's an experience that pales in comparison to the beheading of District One. I had been injured, sure, but as soon as I had reached the reeds on the side of the lake, I had received a parachute full of medicine. Finnick had begun working for me automatically. I must've risen to the platform and he ran to persuade sponsors that I deserved everything they could give me.

"Rowan." I look up at the sound of Finnick's voice. He's standing in the doorway to my bedroom, where he'd kissed me before leaving earlier this evening. "Are you all right?"

My real answer is something along the lines of 'never' but I spare him and reply, "Yes. Did I wake you?" He makes a face that's somewhere between affirming that's exactly what I did and that he hadn't been asleep anyway.

"Your usual?" he posits, approaching my bed. I pull my knees to my chest when he sits down, repeating my actions from a similar night on the train. I tell myself to relax. If the Capitol is indeed taking notice of what we're doing in the Tribute Center, I can't go back to shrinking away because I'm embarrassed. Part of the show has to be that I'm not anxious about sharing anything with Finnick. Honestly, I'm not sure why I tense up at all because Finnick has never regarded me as weak.

"Actually no. It was about when I first entered the arena." I watch out of the corner of my eye as Finnick lays down and props himself up right beside me. Nervously, I keep my hands locked around my knees.

"District 11," he says slowly. "I was so worried you wouldn't get the medicine in time."

"What about you?" I respond. "Do you have nightmares? About trident-ing people or anything?" I know he must have nightmares. I would be genuinely surprised if any victor slept soundly most of the time. Still, I've never asked him, maybe because I see Finnick as so strong. It could also be because I know Finnick's Games were worse.

"I do but not about 'trident-ing people,'" he tells me with a bit of a laugh. That's a relief to me. I wouldn't wish reliving the same horrifying events over and over on anyone. But I find it comforting that I am not the only one who struggles with these things, particularly because Finnick handles it so well.

"Then what are they about?" I turn my head towards him. Finnick appears troubled for a moment and I quickly try to remedy the situation. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I understand they're personal."

"No, I'll tell you. It's just…." He trails off, running a hand through his hair. I relax but still stay sitting up. What if what he tells me is just for show? Worse yet, what if it makes me foolishly fall in love with him? "My nightmares are usually about the Capitol killing someone I love."

"Oh, that's awful." I reach over to him and let him take my hand in his own. Instantly, I feel better. "I can't imagine." Finnick has a rather short list of people he cares about so I assume it's the same dream all the time, just alternating between Mags and Annie and others.

He nods. "I suppose it's because the idea is lorded over me." His fingers go up and down my forearm. I have to look away from him because I feel guilty.

"That's what they threatened you with." He's never explicitly told me that before and there's no reason for me to believe that he's making it up now, just for show. I suspected but still, I could never fathom a punishment severe enough to keep him in the Capitol's employ. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asks, as though he doesn't know. I wonder if he just wants to hear me say it.

"I've been so horrible about it. Since the moment you told me, I have been nothing but touchy and sensitive." Sure, the anger never lasts but the awkwardness has. I can't even say I was really angry with Finnick. That would be ridiculous and unsympathetic. Maybe 'disappointed' is the more appropriate thing to say. 'Disappointed' that the Capitol has something on everyone, 'disappointed' that I maybe shouldn't trust Finnick as much as I do (whether he willingly works for them or not), 'disappointed' that there's literally nothing I can do about it. Well, 'angry' fits too.

"I didn't tell you this for you to apologize. I understand." Frankly, that was the worst part about it. He _always _seemed to understand, whether it hurt him or not.

"Well, it's been weighing on me and I needed to say it. We could die in a matter of days and I wouldn't have said what I needed to say to you." I glance back over at him, this beautiful and kind person lying on my bed. "You told me at the end of my Victory Tour, when we were at the president's mansion, and I rejected you. I was cold and you would never have been that way with me."

"I think about that all the time." I assume he thinks about me angrily storming away or becoming so overwhelmed that I yelled at someone but then, he says, "You had those little pearls in your hair and you did _not _want to be there." My heart pounds.

"You're right. I can't believe you remember that." For a second it occurs to me that he could be putting on, just like we're supposed to be, but I realize that can't be true.

He smiles and pulls his hand away from me. I almost tell him not to. "I guess I have a good memory." It's as though he's sorry he said anything. "I should let you sleep." He moves away slowly, so slowly, giving me every opportunity to stop him.

"Finnick, will you stay with me?" It may be impulsive, even selfish, but I want to stay close to him after this. At least it goes well with our cover story.

"Of course," he replies and comes right back over to me. Something in his expression says he's been waiting for this, wanting me to ask this for years. I feel like that's silly or wishful thinking. I once adored Finnick, thought of him when I went to sleep at night and when I woke up in the morning. It had been all-consuming and made me feel even more pitiful than usual. I'd made the mistake of thinking him asking me to dance at the president's mansion would mean more when instead, it was when he told me about his deal with Snow. This feels remarkably like that; believing I see signs when all it is is kindness.

I finally lay back down and Finnick pulls me towards him. For the first time in quite a while, I feel calm, even happy. "Thank you," I tell him and he puts his lips against my forehead. Then I fall into a merciful dreamless sleep.

In the morning, I hear Agrippina throw open the door and gasp. "Oh no," I whisper. "Oh no." I should've known she'd be ecstatic about it since this was all her idea and there's no way to correct her. Finnick doesn't even bother appearing flustered so I'm the only one at the breakfast table keeping my eyes on my plate. I see Mags and Finnick exchange a look while Agrippina prattles on about the work I need to do today to get Peeta and Katniss to want Finnick. I'm tempted to ask what she expects me to do. If they wanted Finnick, when they requested me would have been the perfect opportunity to get him. It is far more likely that Katniss simply doesn't like Finnick while, for whatever reason, she actually does like me.

We head to the Training Center for our second day of training. I want to stick with Finnick all day but he encourages me to talk to Peeta and Katniss again, which is just what Mags and Agrippina want me to do. I don't want to leave him by himself but he doesn't seem to mind.

Katniss and I meet Beetee and Wiress first. She tries to help them start a fire as she did for me yesterday. I notice that Beetee smiles at me, clearly happy with my involvement in their revolutionary plan. I stop thinking of this when he points out a forcefield in front of Plutarch Heavensbee and his advisors. Katniss believes it is there because she shot an arrow at them last year. I just try to remember the telltale signs of one; a rippling effect in the air. That could be useful in a place like the Capitol, let alone in the arena.

Later, I show Katniss and Peeta the spears. Finnick showed off to Peeta with them yesterday but now, it's my turn. Spears are rather simple weapons to master if you have the upper body strength. Katniss and Peeta both use them with ease. Then Atala tells us it is time for lunch.

"Well, I haven't had the chance to thank you for wanting to ally with me," I say. They look between each other as though they appreciate that.

"We'll make a good team," Katniss replies, getting ready to move past me and head to a table. She wants to avoid what she knows I'm going to say next.

"I'm sure I know the answer to this but would you be interested in taking on Finnick as well?" Katniss's reaction is automatic but Peeta speaks before she can.

"Why don't we discuss it, Katniss?" he says practically through his teeth. She briefly nods. "Are you sure he'd want to ally with us, Rowan?" Peeta asks it as though he is positive Finnick will consider the two of them a burden.

"Yes," I respond and because there's no reason to lie to them, I say, "Finnick is willing to go wherever I go." For what it's worth, they believe that and seemingly, knew it already. I don't doubt that Haymitch stressed that Finnick and I wouldn't want to be parted until the inevitable. Whatever spin he's decided to put on it was enough for them. They befriended me knowing that Finnick would have to be part of the deal.

I keep that in mind as I walk over to Finnick. Peeta and Katniss are already sitting down, eating their lunch.

"How'd it go?" Finnick asks slyly.

"Well, they said they would 'discuss' allying with you too but that probably won't go anywhere. Katniss is staunchly against you," I reply. "Maybe you can tone down your sexual aura and cocky attitude for five minutes." He laughs and for a second, I am absolutely mesmerized. _Oh no, _I think because I know what this means. "I'm serious. That may give her the push she needs to accept you."

"Well, you like me that way, don't you?" He gives me a smirk.

"I like you any way." But Katniss doesn't like _this _Finnick. It's easy to see why she wouldn't trust someone like him when she's involved in a revolution. Finnick's jokes and sly demeanor won't be welcome to her in the arena. I might be considered fragile but it's safe to say Katniss could see herself trusting me.

"Peeta and Katniss know that. While they're talking, they'll realize that you like me and there must be a reason for that."

"Yeah and they may think that reason is that I'm as crazy as everyone has always said I was." He rolls his eyes.

"You are _not _crazy and even if you were, that wouldn't be your reason for liking me."

"No, it wouldn't," I respond lowly. "Still, if I were you, I'd consider getting Haymitch to put in a good word with them."

Finnick and I slowly walk by Katniss and Peeta while we receive our lunch, both of us eager to hear whatever we could of their discussion.

"She's the only victor I like," Katniss states, almost defeated. "I guess there's Beetee and Wiress."

"Johanna calls them Nuts and Volts," Peeta replies.

"And what does she call Rowan?"

"She likes her fine, I think. Says she cries a lot but she's sweet. Finnick's good to her." Finnick and I exchange a look and I go back to fixing my lunch. It brings to mind how openly vulnerable I was last night. If I were at home with my mother or Annie, it would be different but since Finnick and I are supposed to appear romantic, it puts an odd spin on it all.

"I find that hard to believe. He doesn't seem the sympathetic type."

"Well, we don't know him. Maybe that's just the angle he plays. Rowan trusts him and maybe that's enough."

"Haymitch said she wouldn't consider leaving him. Do you think that's true?"

"Yes," he replies. "She loves him. I believe that. Even if they're not… together, they're close friends. They won't abandon each other until they're forced. So we have to at least think about dealing with him."

"He'll turn on us the first chance he gets." We hear nothing else of their deliberation over Finnick because standing still any longer would've tipped them off to our eavesdropping.

I slouch down into my seat at a table because frankly, I'm wondering if it isn't all futile. Peeta may have some pull with Katniss and eventually get her to take a chance on Finnick but she would never fully trust him, making it more difficult for Finnick and I to protect them. Dejectedly, I contemplate the idea that I won't be useful with that either. I'm terrified of going back into an arena at all and I know that this one will be specially outfitted because it's a Quarter Quell. It doesn't matter that the Games will never finish. There will still be casualties and I could very likely be one of them.

I am distracted when Finnick, who is sitting right beside me, places a small cake on my plate. "They're your favorites, aren't they?" he asks with a grin. I notice Katniss and Peeta watch him do it, as though they're trying to figure out whether everything we do is fake.

"Yes, they are. Thank you," I tell him, smiling. Finnick shifts and his arm brushes against mine. He doesn't move away from me, which I secretly appreciate.

"So you think I should approach Haymitch and ask him to speak with them?" Genuinely, I don't know how to go about making Finnick palatable to Katniss. Peeta would clearly take him but who knows? At the end of the day, he could just go with Katniss's decision. The best idea I have is this one; getting Haymitch to do something. Maybe that'll be enough. They obviously understand that I'm not leaving Finnick so whatever they decide may also determine whether they still want me as an ally. This is so stressful. Either they agree to us or we follow them around the arena, making it far more dangerous for everyone involved.

"Yes because I'm sure that's what he did with me," I answer. "I don't know why he thought I was an easier sell than you." More than likely, Haymitch painted me as equal parts pitiful and angry; two qualities that Katniss would enjoy.

"You're far more likable to them than I am." I turn my head to see him better. The idea that anyone would like me more than Finnick is strange but given the circumstances, I understand Katniss and Peeta's reservations about other tributes. Finnick especially is a well-known and powerful player who outwardly appears treacherous. In a normal year, there's a small amount of time between learning who's been reaped and deciding who, if any of them, were worth allying with. In this Quarter Quell, with the advantage of knowing who each of these people are and where they come from, it should be easier to choose than normal. Who could blame Peeta and Katniss for going with someone safe that they believe they can easily dispatch once they've outlived their usefulness rather than someone they know to be deadly? The other tributes haven't approached me because they either assume they can kill me early on or that Finnick will kill them before they can attempt it. "You hate all the things Katniss hates and I stand for all the things Katniss hates. Peeta will follow her lead."

"Well, if they give you a chance then they can see past all that and they'll like you as much as I do." It's doubtful they will ever like Finnick as much as I do though. Loving Finnick before completely hating the Capitol and knowing just how deep he's in had made it so much simpler to continue caring for him. If my impression of Finnick was the one Peeta and Katniss must share, it would take me a long time to see past that façade, if I could even be sure it was one. "They're young. They don't know just how bad it is."

"Oh, I'm sure Katniss has been threatened in some way or another by Snow. That love story last year would never have fooled him." In that respect, I genuinely feel sorry for Peeta and Katniss because I believe it's real. "It reads as fake to me too."

"Are you kidding?" I ask slyly.

"Oh, Peeta, I believe but Katniss?" He shook his head.

"If it wasn't there for her, why would we be bothering with Peeta?" I say lowly. "Besides, not everyone's obvious about how they feel. She's just keeping it to herself." There's no doubt things like the wedding and even engagement were perfectly executed to quell dissent in the districts. What happened with the berries could be taken as either a political statement or one of romance. While the romance may be there in some capacity, I'm positive that neither Peeta nor Katniss is ready to be married.

My conversation with Finnick comes to an abrupt end when Johanna walks up with a wink and a wolfish grin. I think about groaning but instead, I eat my tiny cake. She takes a seat across from us. I know even before looking that Katniss will make this another strike against Finnick.

"I've been waiting for this for years," she declares. I sigh before taking the bait.

"Waiting for what? To chop another person in half?" Johanna had been ingenious in her Games, that was something I had to give her. She spent her time actively tricking the other tributes into believing she was an unassuming weakling before slaughtering them all with her axe.

"No." She seems to reconsider that a second. "Well, yes but that's not what I was referring to." Finnick is silent beside me, still so close that I can feel each tiny movement he makes. Now I understand what Johanna is getting at. "I'm talking about you two." She points a slender finger at us and unconsciously, I flinch. "I knew this was coming. Honestly, we all should have known when you received that parachute on the first day, Rowan. And since then, it's been so obvious."

"Johanna," Finnick begins.

"Obvious?" I question. She looks at me as though I might be as mad as she's always suspected.

"Come on," she replies. "Your Victory Tour and every year at the Hunger Games." I'm afraid I don't understand what she's referring to past the Victory Tour. During my Victory Tour, I was fawning over Finnick but other than that, we've only ever been close friends. "I guess with imminent death looming over the horizon, it's time to take those chances." Johanna looks to Finnick and that effectively keeps her from going on. Instead she and Finnick start to talk about other things, leaving me to finish my lunch quietly.

Under the table, Finnick grabs my hand. I stare down for a second before meeting Finnick's eyes. He looks happy. I give him a nervous smile. I want to pull away, tell him to stop being so nice to me, and continue his conversation with Johanna but I don't. I remind myself that just because I'm involved in this plan doesn't mean my safety is guaranteed. In fact, it means the opposite. If my time is limited, frightening as that is, I should allow myself some happiness. Perhaps everything Finnick is doing is for show but it's still rather nice. At least I'm doing this with a friend.

After lunch, I go back to the swords. It could be some morbid fascination with a weapon I once used to kill someone but oddly enough, I feel comfortable with them. Despite my anxiety and other struggles, I'm still physically strong. If I look like I can still take care of myself, no matter my mental state, the other tributes won't just consider me a useless extension of Finnick. It is clear by the looks and even low laughter I receive that that's exactly their interpretation of me.

Later in the day, Katniss shows her superb archery skills in one of the training rooms, complete with hologram opponents. Every other tribute stands outside the glass, watching her in awe. I come to the conclusion that she won't need any protection, certainly not from me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Gosh, I am awful! AWFUL. I started a fic back in the spring that I thought I'd be able to finish if I wrote it all in one go so I told myself to stop everything else (and guess what, I haven't finished that either!). School has been interfering in my writing world, unfortunately. But anyway, I was weirdly disappointed in Mockingjay Part 2. It seemed like they cut some things and rushed others. Whatever it was, I thought it was the weakest of the four movies. What did you guys think of it, if you've seen it? Moving on, here is the new chapter. I felt like I needed a break between this one and the next one. Thank you for all of your kind words! I am sorry for the wait! As usual, I only own Rowan.**

I drum my fingers on my knee and think about what I should show the Gamemakers. For my Games, I had thrown spears at staggered targets and managed to receive a ten. This time, I would necessarily have to try something more challenging. For some, like Johanna, the strategy of appearing weak worked. But if I look like I can't pull my own weight, Katniss and Peeta will drop me and others will assume that I'm dragging Finnick down. For everyone involved, I need to at least look like I know what I'm doing.

"If you keep fidgeting like that, you're going to make _me _nervous," Finnick says, disturbing my train of thought. All of the tributes are sitting close together in a room outside of the Training Center, waiting for our district numbers to be called.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, forcing my hands to still. "I'm just debating what I should do."

"You're not going to make a political statement? Show them just how mad you are?" He arches a perfect eyebrow and I tilt my head in response. "I'm assuming that's what more than a few people will be doing." He nods in the direction of Peeta and Katniss. "And Snow will expect it of you."

"But not of you," I murmur.

"No," he replies with a dejected sigh. "I'm experienced at my role and you're very good at yours." I ignore the underlying message to his words but return to tapping my fingers on my knee.

"If I do something like that, it could get you killed," I whisper. "Allying with me has already endangered you, pretending that this-"

"_This_," he points at me and then himself, "is natural. Your not being angry with the Capitol about the Quarter Quell wouldn't be." Finnick is right, of course. From the moment that they lifted my body out of my poisoned arena, I had been angry. As they sedated me to stop my screaming, my incoherent mumbling about killing a boy no older than I was, and congratulated me on it, wrath had built up. Since then, I've shown it in increasingly dangerous ways. I imagine the only thing that has saved me from the death of a radical has been my often fragile mental state. Punching a Gamemaker at the president's mansion and refusing toasts from President Snow are easily tempered by bouts of crying or simple immobility. A girl like me can mean no real harm. Show that my views are just those perpetuated by some damaged, insane victor and by extent, make them unappealing to others.

"As usual, you're right," I begrudgingly admit. Normal tributes, those who aren't expecting to be airlifted out of the arena, _are _livid about the Quarter Quell. This could help keep the Capitol unaware of the plan.

He laughs and says, "Don't sound so disappointed."

I want to ask Finnick what he plans on doing once he enters the Training Center but he's called before I get the chance. When he gets up, he covers my jittering hand with his own and gives me a stunning smile.

I pull up my tawny hair and look over my shoulder at Katniss and Peeta, total opposites in coloring and build. Unsurprisingly, they are whispering heatedly. Peeta sees me and lifts his hand in a slight wave. I weakly smile, afraid that if I do more than that, that my lunch may come back up.

"Rowan Tamsin, District Four," the speakers blare. I rub my sweaty palms on my training uniform and make myself get up. The other tributes look my way, some in sympathy and some in outright pity. I decide that I have to show off if they're to see me as anything more than a mercy kill. I'll have to enter one of the simulation rooms.

I pass Finnick on my way into the Training Center and the back of his hand brushes mine. I think of burying my face in the nape of his neck, of running my fingers along his spine, of deceitful kisses in the dark of night. Not two days from now, I will enter the arena with a sham lover and a pair of rebels who are to be protected at all costs, and the only thing I can claim to understand is that I like pretending with Finnick. In private, it doesn't seem like make-believe at all.

The doors close behind me and, dry-mouthed, I announce myself. None of the Gamemakers seem particularly interested in my presence, except one; Plutarch Heavensbee, the head Gamemaker. He nods.

Once more, I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and I walk to the simulation room. I've practiced in one a couple of times, enough so that the holograms don't alarm me. Though I'm not overly confident in taking them on, I am at least familiar with the way they work. Before picking my weapons of choice, my eyes lock on a tin of black paint. _A political statement, _I think. I take the paint and grab a middling-sized sword and a spear before setting the dial to medium difficulty. I then enter the room, attempting to look put together. The Gamemakers stare, some of them clearly eager to see what I'll do even against fake assailants.

Orange lights convalesce in the center of room before me and form an easily 6-foot tall opponent. For a brief moment, all I know is panic, fear that I'll be finished before I can even begin. Then I drop the spear and paint and bring up the sword in time to block a killing blow. I wrench the false blade from it, watch as it fades against the floor, and slice through its middle. Orange blocks fall about my feet.

I scramble back to the spear and throw it to hit my next attacker, running across the room to me. It clatters to the floor after the hologram disappears.

I attempt to duck a hologram arrow and narrowly miss it. My sword blocks the next one and then the hologram is bearing down on me. Sweat beads on my forehead but I eventually throw it off, my arms fortunately muscular from all my time in the water.

Another appears behind me when I am running towards the spear I brought in and nicks my waist with its sword. The tiny blow administers a shock that makes me yell and buckles my knees. I feel for the spear and bring it up to skewer my last hologram. Its orange cubes rain over me but I feel nothing from them. I bend over, shaky hands against my stomach, taking heaving breaths. I am in entire disbelief that I managed to make it through the simulation mostly unscathed.

The Gamemakers, standing around their elevated table and behind their forcefield, are still watching. This is good. I force myself to my feet and toss the sword and spear to the floor with a metallic clang. Grabbing the tin of paint, I approach the glass doors. Though they open, I am able to calculate what I want to do with a degree of accuracy. I pull the top off of the black paint and dip a slender finger in. I take a haggard and nervous breath, wonder if this is the most foolish thing I could do under the circumstances, then I paint.

When I'm done, I leave the simulation room. The doors slide closed behind me and the Mockingjay symbol becomes clear. In places, the paint is rolling down the glass and in others, my lines are stark and crisp. My heart is in my throat but the Gamemakers do not openly respond. Only Plutarch Heavensbee looks me in the eye and I grimace. He smiles, perhaps grateful that the Quarter Quell will kill me and the person who popularized the Mockingjay, Katniss. I put up the paint and walk to the exit. My legs want to give out from underneath me. I put my hand to my chest, feel my racing pulse, and tell myself to calm down before I fall unconscious in front of a group of people judging my ability to survive.

I enter the hallway back to the Tribute Center and Finnick is still there, waiting. We are alone so I pull him to me, let my paint-stained fingers dig into his strong shoulders. "Are you all right?" he whispers, his lips perilously close to my ear.

"Yes," I murmur, though I am never quite sure how to answer that question. I make myself let him go, even if I don't want to. "I'm sorry, it was just… nerve-wracking."

He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. It is terribly attractive, so much so that my heart jumps. _No, _I tell myself. _You've done this before and what makes you think it will turn out any differently? _Of course, it had been my fault for reading into things and then overreacting. That Finnick is still willing to put up with me is a miracle in and of itself.

Since our time in the Training Center is over, we're given permission to relax for the rest of the day. For me, relaxing encompasses worrying about the scores we'll be given and thinking about the Games. Once back on our floor, I scrub the remaining paint from my hands and shed my training uniform. I feel a pang when I see it crumpled on the floor because the next uniform I put on will be the one I'll wear into the arena.

I pull on a sea-green chiffon dress, take a deep breath, and sit on the edge of my bed. I'll be competing in the Hunger Games in under two days. Two days. I take another ragged breath. Two days. My fingers grip the bedspread. Two days. Suddenly, the boy from District One is before me, blood running from the slit along his throat, his head hitting the floor with a sickening thump. I utter a gasp that verges on a shriek and scramble back onto the bed. I duck under the blankets, cover my head, and pull my knees up to my chest. "Not real," I mutter. "It's not real." Still, my hands are clenched into fists and my knuckles are turning white. I might even be crying.

Soon after, I feel pressure on the mattress and my blankets are pulled off of me. I freeze, shut my eyes and pull my knees closer to my chest, until I feel a hand against my skin and realize that it is Finnick. "Come here," he says. I force myself to open my eyes and look at him. He's sitting close to me, his fingers against the bare skin of my leg, his golden brow rumpled. "You're all right," he promises. "You're not there. You're here with me, okay? You're here with me."

I nod and he lays down beside me. When he wraps his arms around my waist, I am able to relax. I unfurl my fingers to place them over Finnick's. "You're okay," he tells me again.

"Why are you so good at this?" I whisper.

"I don't know that I am," he replies and buries his face in my swath of ocher hair. It makes a chill roll down my spine.

"Well," I start but find that I cannot finish the thought with his chest pressed against my back. I want to thank him for yet again being here for me in the absence of Annie and my mother. But he seems far more adept at helping me relax than either of them. With Annie, that is to be expected, I suppose. Still, it is strange that after all these years Finnick is the best one for me. I tell myself, as he brushes hair away from my throat and presses his lips to my neck, that he is the only one who can possibly understand what I've been through. But when I finally turn into him and he kisses me in response, I know that I react to Finnick because I still harbor feelings for him. I shudder at this realization and hope that he doesn't notice. I understand that I know better than this but perhaps, it is too late.

It isn't long after that, Agrippina throws open the door to my room. I pull away from Finnick and sit up to look at her, dressed up in blue and green to show her connection to District Four. "Do you _ever _knock?" I ask in disbelief. Finnick laughs.

Agrippina's feathers do not ruffle easily when it comes to me. She spreads her blue-painted lips into an eerie smile. "Well, I just thought you might want to know your scores!" she exclaims in that horrific Capitol accent. "Caesar Flickerman will be announcing them in a matter of minutes!" I wonder how much time has passed, how long I had actually laid in bed.

"Great," Finnick replies, lithely standing up and running a hand through his hair. I make myself do the same. "We'll be right down."

Agrippina glances between us and grins again, as if she knows something we don't. "All right then!" She exits my bedroom in a flurry of melodrama, beckoning at us with her fingers. I consider rolling my eyes.

There is no option but to follow her. The four of us, including Mags, cluster in front of the screen above the fireplace. I nervously smooth out my skirt before sitting with Finnick. My fingers ball into fists when I remember that I painted the Mockingjay symbol as part of my skill set and no doubt, that it will set my score. It could be so low as to be insignificant, thus making Katniss and Peeta reconsider their alliance with me. In fact, I could have garnered the lowest score of all the victors, including the Morphling addicts.

The show begins, starting with District One. I consider the chances of receiving a middling to low score until Caesar Flickerman says, "From District Four, Finnick Odair, with a score of 11." I look at Finnick in time to see Agrippina fawning over him. Mags gives a nod of approval.

"Always a showoff," I say to him and Finnick only smiles. On a scale of 1-12, an 11 is excellent and is rarely given out by the Gamemakers. In recent memory, the only other tribute I can remember receiving an 11 is Katniss from last year. Finnick must have done something to really impress Plutarch Heavensbee and his group. Of course, the Gamemakers hail from the Capitol and everyone here adores Finnick.

"From District Four, Rowan Tamsin, with a score of," Caesar hesitates, as if the number is a surprise to him, "11."

"What?!" I exclaim. There is no way anything I showed them should have garnered an 11, especially considering what the other tributes must have done. I may have made it through the simulation room but that doesn't put me on the same level as Finnick.

"Rowan, that is fantastic!" Agrippina says, coming and placing her hands on my shoulders. I tense up. "You are really beginning to impress me!"

"That's great, Rowan!" Finnick says. "What did you show them?" They all look expectant because they know I don't deserve that high a score, not given my myriad issues. Only Finnick appears to know what I might say.

"I just went into a simulation room," I tell them, omitting painting the Mockingjay. Finnick may have encouraged me to do something and Mags certainly wouldn't mind if she is in on the rebel plan but Agrippina doesn't need to know anything that incriminating. She may have her suspicions but there is no need for me to confirm them.

The only victors who score above us are Peeta and Katniss, both with 12s. While 11s are rare, 12s are all but unheard of. I exchange a look with Finnick. They'd done something to get a target on their backs. By receiving the best scores, the Gamemakers had ensured that the other victors would want to take out Katniss and Peeta first. Belatedly, it occurs to me that that was surely the reason I'd been given an 11. Maybe it was even the reason Finnick received one as well. Though Finnick and I both received 10s in our first Games, I'd been doubtful that either of us would get them again, let alone exceed them. I glance at Finnick, charming and kind, and I wonder if I've done something that could get him killed.

"Tomorrow will be your interviews!" Agrippina says at dinner. "So you need to be thinking about what you want to say!"

"Won't that depend on the questions?" I ask, fishing the meat out of a deviled crab.

"Well, yes but obviously, we know what the people would like to hear about! They'd like to know what's going on with you two!" Agrippina slyly points between me and Finnick, who is sitting to my left.

"I'm sure the 'people' couldn't care less," I mutter.

"You're wrong!" she interjects. "You are very wrong! You have stirred up quite the talk this year."

"Well, that was the goal, wasn't it?" Finnick retorts. I'm curious as to how we've garnered any talk at all when so much has happened behind closed doors. But I recall how quickly Johanna jumped on us the other day in the Training Center and how Katniss asked just what exactly was between Finnick and I. The other victors are certainly curious. Perhaps, Agrippina was onto something, though I am loathe to admit it.

"Yes! I just want you to be prepared for whatever Caesar throws your way. And by 'you,' I mean Rowan." I groan and Finnick holds back a laugh. Even Mags smiles.

That night, after fitfully trying to sleep, I finally give in and sneak into Finnick's room. I'm not sure what I hope to achieve by this but part of me knows that this is one of the final nights before we enter the arena. I should be sleeping, trying to rest up before I'm thrown into a den of killers, but I just can't. If I'm with Finnick I'll relax, even if we're talking strategy or the plan for protecting Katniss.

When I enter his bedroom, I see that Finnick is asleep. I don't want to disturb him, as I'm sure sleep is as hard to come by for him as it is for me, but I decide to stay anyway. If I'm careful, he won't even know I'm here.

I crawl onto the empty side of his bed and he moves a little but doesn't wake. His back is turned to me, which I consider a blessing. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I ponder just how little I truly know about the supposed rebellion and what my role in it is supposed to be. For the arena, I'll focus on Peeta but I still haven't managed to make him and Katniss want Finnick. After Katniss's show in the Training Center, every victor wants her as an ally and supposedly, she has still only chosen me. The problem continues to be how to present Finnick as desirable to her, which is difficult to comprehend because Finnick is desirable to everyone. He told me that he tried to help her with knots and that she'd acted as if he had some kind of communicable disease. Katniss is simply immune to Finnick's charms. Unfortunately, I am not.

I glance at Finnick beside me, at his tan skin and his soft hair, and I recognize that I have walked into the same trap that I fell into years ago. The thing that pulled me out of it wasn't that I'm unstable or that Finnick can't work with that. It was learning about the Capitol selling him and now, with a supposed revolution in the mix, that issue doesn't seem like a big deal. Early on, I'll admit, I worried that he supported the Capitol despite what it was doing to him or worse, that he enjoyed it. But I know better than that. I've always known better than that.

Still, I never outright told Finnick how I felt and it's possible that he still doesn't know. When I finally built up the nerve, he told me he worked for the Capitol and I fell apart. But Finnick was so good, even at the time, that I would find it hard to believe that he never figured it out. Maybe that was why he told me at all; because he wanted me to stop pursuing him. I was a girl people were beginning to think was mad and Finnick was valuable. Just like I am now, I would have weighed him down and hindered his popularity.

I sigh and Finnick shifts. Now we are in some kind of fake relationship, which is probably what started this back up for me, and I have no way of deciphering what's real and what isn't. Finnick does this for a living. He makes others believe he wants them, he lets them feel attractive to him, as if he's the one with the power and in this case, that is true. I have no way of knowing whether this is just another game and he is an excellent player. I could ask him, I suppose, but he could just tell me that he's doing what he was told, that being friends with me is fine but he would never be interested in more than that. "I don't want to hurt you, Rowan," he'd say in his kind voice, with a pitiful expression and it would make me feel guilty for even approaching him. Still, I could tell him what I'm thinking and he would be nice about it. Of course he would understand that I care for him. Everyone he meets does.

I sigh again, this time maybe too noisily, and make myself admit it aloud. Once in the arena, it won't matter. This way, I'll know I've said it to Finnick, with no anxiety over his response.

"I've loved you once before," I whisper, so lowly that I can barely hear myself, "so I'm afraid I know the signs." I reach over, slowly wind a lock of his golden hair around one of my fingers. "You are kind and generous with me and… so many other things." I pause and drop his hair. "I'm sure you know all this because you are incredibly intuitive and it is not much of an admission but I needed to say it to you before we were in the arena. I also didn't really want to know your response. You already know I love you as family… but this is different and the way you feel about it could ruin everything. So… you should continue sleeping and I should feel better."

Finnick still doesn't stir and I am grateful for it. I slide down and lay beside him, hoping he'll think nothing of it.


End file.
